


Turned

by animangod



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Turned Into Vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16984365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animangod/pseuds/animangod
Summary: Saw a headcanon where Fai is a creature made of magic (rather than simply posseses magic) so I wanted to write the idea. This is set during his vampiric transformation.





	Turned

Nothing could warn him of being left to live, yet again. That was his worst miscalculation. If he had died, as his brother had died, had the magic that was his life taken, even half would be enough and he could have died; he could have died… well, nearly happy. He would not have to kill his Ashura-ou, he would not have to watch his Princess suffer, he would not have to kill that keen ninja from Nihon, and his magic would never have to be used by the clone to hurt another person. But he had not counted on the other’s wanting him to live, and Kurogane’s desperation to keep him alive, but at least there was the promise of death later on, by the ninja’s hand. There was no choice; all he could do was smile and accept it. For now.

Fai watched the blood drip off the ninja’s wrist, and he tried imagining it was wine. A savory red wine. It was a momentary distraction before the liquid hit him hard, the iron-rich blood of Kurogane mixed with that of Kamui’s, and the effects of the blood began instantaneously.

 

Turning hurt; there was no doubt about it. Seishirou could have told Fai that, but he was not there at the time. He could not tell him just how painful being turned to flesh and vampiric would be, nor could he know just how it felt, even though, he too, had been turned also. No, there was most definitely no way even Seishirou himself would know quite what it felt like to be turned. Because, after all, Fai concluded, Seishirou was born of flesh and not of magic. His magic was given to him, while Fai, his magic was him. You could not quite compare the two, although some parts were still the same. 

Being of flesh and taking the form of flesh were two completely separate things. His form, crafted out of magic, in the mimicking image of his brother, or perhaps his brother in his own image, but he did not consider that possibility. It was not that he considered his body a separate entity, but that he existed so long as his magic held him together, and if the magic was taken, then with him, so too would the magic die.

The body was constructed in the image most resembling a convergence of his mother and his father, both who lay in their graves, and the magic holding him together was the blue color stored in his eyes. Of all the residents of Ceres, perhaps Chi would understand exactly what that was like. Naïve as she was, she too, was made of magic. Brother too, but he was held comatic, a fluorite stone with a feather placed with him to keep him from being without hope. Chi’s form construed by his magic and of one of Sakura’s feathers, he built her out of magic, and her life was sustained by the feather as her center. Where her heart should be, there was only an enclave where the delicate-looking feather was nestled behind a breastplate. Should the feather be taken, then so too, would his creation’s life. As long as the feather existed as it was, she could be rebuilt, reshaped, but if it was taken, and she to be created again, would she still be the Chi that he had built? Doubtful, as even he and his twin being were not completely identical. Perhaps she was closest who could have told him how it felt to be turned, but her form was changed with the same magic that helped turn her form to the female, and finally to that of a net, to watch over the sleeping king, and to warn him in case the king awoke from his slumber, and not to that of a vampire. Perhaps the two, Chi and Seishirou together, would have been about right.

 

It hurt. It hurt more than the injuries sustained in Outo, more than having the clone gouge out his eye,  taking half of his magic –his life – more than the premature death of Outo, more than learning of his Ashura-ou’s secret dark side, more than watching as everyone, everyone, he tried to keep safe, was being slowly taken away, some brutally ripped away, from him, more than the death of his home, more than the death of his people, more than – no, never more than the death of his brother, of watching the frail form cascade from the Tower, watch the magic pool out of his eyes as he fell, leaving him a lifeless shell, cradled in his arms, and knowing,  knowing it was all his fault, that he had somehow chosen to allow his brother to die. All he wanted was for them to be together, but it was his fault; it was always his fault, wasn’t it? He should have never been born at all if all he could bring to those around him was short lived happiness and longevity of misery.

 

Being half alive was nothing new to Fai –it’d been so long since he felt wholly alive – but being half magic and half vampire was. Surging through his body was just enough sustenance to force his beating frame to stop beating yet still make him stay alive. Dying was painful enough –how many times had he died, almost died, only to be brought back to life – Fai thought that being brought back to any form of living was worse, but was it anything less than what he deserved, what was commanded of him, that he could not die just yet? And perhaps this death was the worse. Outo had been a miscalculation; he’d been careless in a world that threw him through a loop, as he could sense the wrongness but unable to do anything about it, only just live. Live the only way he knew how. However, as that death and reincarnation had been caused by no one’s will to keep him alive, only a game, virtual reality, as though coming out of a dream that began innocent, only to become dark and dangerous. Although at first he thought he had died for real, this time, there was no virtual reality that held a reset button. There was no level I oni and no Seishirou controlling the oni with one of Sakura’s feathers, and there was Kurogane, and there was the Dimensional Witch and two twin vampires. The sleeping frame of Sakura and the worried white ball that was Mokona seemed to be the only things that remained the same. And pain.

Pain seemed a constant, and nothing could distract him from that for long enough, not even the warm, too warm hands of the ninja as they rubbed gently against him. Through ears, he could still hear the others as they talked around him, about him, but he could not speak, not even scream, the pain too debilitating as it wracked his body through and through, binding it to that form, changing from magic to vampire. 

As before, he could use his existence, but would he? Doubtful. He had denied his own existence for so, so long – even this new half form could be denied, couldn’t it? He had seen what Kamui had done to the clone, knew that the same was in his own body now –claws and slitted eyes, eye, amidst his own self being, what magic remained.

The pain slowly lessened as the change finished; breathing deeply, panting heavily, he forced his gaze, a single gold eye, to look upon those two red ones. He could see the silent message in there, one he never, never wanted cast upon him, never wanted to see come from that ninja aimed at him, but it was there, and he knew he’d crossed the line with him. Unforgivable of himself for crossing it; unforgivable of the ninja for betraying his wishes – he had to redraw it once more. But the transformation had taken its toll, and he passed out, collapsing weakly on the bed.


End file.
